


Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

by The_Madness_of_Beyond_Birthday



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 21:02:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1319068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Madness_of_Beyond_Birthday/pseuds/The_Madness_of_Beyond_Birthday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he dreams, it is always of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Happy late birthday, Guardianofsassandass! I'm sorry this is a few days late, but I hope the subject matter makes up for it!

When he sleeps, he dreams of skin. Pale skin, unmarred by bruises or work, stretched tight over bones where the boy who wears it has become too thin. He dreams of white hair beneath his fingers, soft strands being held tight as he pushes the boy down to take his cock, feels those soft lips wrap around him as a tongue twitches against the underside, feels the muscles _tense_ as he shoves him forward to make him take and take and _take_.

"Yes, Jack, that’s it, you can take more, I know you can," he whispers to the boy who sputters and whines and looks up at him with those beautiful blue eyes, those eyes that hold devotion and the want to please him, to prove that he _is_ a good boy and when Jack tries harder, sucks harder, even as he shoves deeper, so deep, deep enough to stay forever because Jack has to keep him forever, he can’t have anyone else will _never_ have anything else this good and Pitch _will make sure of it—_

"Mr. Black, wake up! It’s time for breakfast!"

The voice of his caretaker, shrill and high-pitched like a siren, shrieked into Pitch’s brain, rousing him from sweet dreams of his darling _daring_ little boy, bringing him back to the reality of his empty bed with its sticky sheets the window, his view to the outside world. He wanted to scream at the woman for daring to interrupt time with Jack (even if it was a dream it was a dream about Jack, about their future, how life would be when that _woman_ was out of the way, when he and Jack could twist in bed together like they were meant to, when life was _perfect_ ), wanted to just curl up in bed and stare out the window, wanted to watch Jack’s daily routine unfold. But of course the woman had to ruin that, too, with the sound of a ring of keys jingling, the scratchy sound of the knob unlocking, the creak as the door opened, the woman seeing him there with a tray of mush in hand. “Here you are, Mr. Black, now let’s get ready for our—”

He could tell the exact moment she noticed his messed sheets and briefly wondered if he should kill her for it. After all, that was for no one but _Jack_ to know. Only Jack could understand the reason behind these dreams - he was the cause, after all. Jack should be the only one to see this.

He didn’t. Instead he stared at her, blank-faced as she sat the tray down and helped him out of bed (he wanted to scoff at her, wanted to scream that he was not an invalid despite what most would think), quickly ushering him off to the bathroom, away from the window, away from Jack.

"You take a shower while I get some new sheets for your bed," she said as she locked the door behind him, leaving him alone in the small bathroom he had. He heard her hurriedly rushing back to his room, muttering to herself but that didn’t matter. He quickly undressed himself, sadly placing them in the hamper before pushing back the shower cushion and stepping inside the small place, wishing Jack was slipping in behind him so that the two of them could stay underneath this warm spray, hands trailing across skin like the water. He pushed that soft, supple body up against the tiled walls, heard Jack’s breathless laugh whispered words, "Shh, slow down. We have as long as you want."

Those words made him smile because yes, they had forever now because Jack was in his arms, Jack was _here_ and he could feel him, could smell him in the air, could _taste_ him as he brought their lips together again, tracing them with his tongue, could hear him when he moaned and shifted, legs opening some to let Pitch feel how hard he was, how much he wanted this.

"Ple-e-e-ease, please," so eager, so needy, so impatient Pitch couldn’t help but laugh and pull his mouth away from Jack’s, teeth sharp in the dim light, steam rising around them. "Who should calm down now?"

That sweet little pout he got in return was more than worth the elbow in his ribs and Pitch grinned as he leaned back in for the kiss, Jack coming up to meet him, the steam rolling in and surrounding them all—

TAPTAPTAP! “Mr. Black, are you alright in there?”

Pitch had to bite his tongue to hold back the snarl, coming back to the feeling of water on his skin, his own hand around his limp dick. The evidence of his little daydream spiraling down into the drain, leaving him with nothing but a cold heart. With a sigh he shut off the water and grabbed a towel, hurriedly wrapping it around his waist before he went to open the door, glad the woman allowed him at least one courtesy. He looked down at her, watched her shift in discomfort before she handed him a set of fresh clothes. “Here you are. Get dressed, then we’ll put you back in your room and you can have breakfast.”

"…Mm." He took the clothes, quickly closing the door in the woman’s face before rolling his eyes, sighing. This was his routine. This was his life, until he could take Jack and keep him and have him. He would endure this for Jack.

It would make having him all the sweeter.


End file.
